


With Grimmchild

by Echovous



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Amnesia, Banishment (Hollow Knight), Canon Era, Canon Rewrite, Death Rituals, Everybody Lives, Gen, Internal Conflict, Intersex Grimm, M/M, Manipulation, Mpreg, The Grimm Troupe DLC (Hollow Knight), but it’s sweet I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echovous/pseuds/Echovous
Summary: Master beckoned him closer with a finger. “Come. I have something to show you.”With the lighting of the Nightmare Lantern, the Ritual continues.
Relationships: Brumm/Grimm (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been sitting on this one for a few days and figured I’d post it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Brumm stood before the troupe, playing music as the Grimmkin unloaded supplies. It was arduous work that had to get done, so he lightened the load with something pleasing to listen to. After all, they couldn’t stop. Once they finished unloading, the tents would need to be put up, so Brumm continued to play.

“I thought this kingdom would be much more lively,” a voice from beside him—Master’s voice—abruptly spoke.

Brumm looked at Master. He’d thought this kingdom would be livelier, too. The lighting of the torch had sent a searing wave through their shared nightmare. Whoever had lit it must have had great strength. Yet, when they followed the torch, they only found a faded town.

“Here’s a soul, at least.”

Brumm followed Master’s eyes, finding an old, hunchbacked bug exiting a house. The bug jumped at the sight of their troupe then stumbled backwards as if he were unsure what to do. 

“Greetings, Elderbug. A resident, I presume?” Master greeted, walking towards the bug rather than teleporting in a cloud of red. That would just startle him more...

“Y-Yes,” the elderbug answered warily.

“I am Grimm, the master of this troupe. I thought I’d formerly introduce us since I noticed you staring.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to stare, It’s just your troupe materialized out of thin air.”

From the corner of his eye, Brumm could see Master smile. “You could say that...”

“What brought you here?” The elderbug asked. “I didn’t think anyone knew where to find Dirtmouth. Not after everyone ventured deeper into the well...”

“We’re a traveling circus of sorts. We’re always on the road and just happened upon your town.”

“Oh,” the elderbug frowned. “Then I wish your troupe would’ve showed earlier. There are few left who can enjoy your talents.”

“Well, if you think we should leave...” Master trailed off.

“No, no, your troupe is more than welcomed. This fading town needs more life.”

Master smiled again. “We’ll finish setting up then.”

— —

Not long after the primary tent went up, Brumm realized Master had disappeared, having slipped away by himself.

He stopped all his music and began to search. A quick glance around him revealed that Master wasn’t outside, so he quickly entered the main tent. Along the way, he passed dozens of Grimmkin hauling in large, ornate barriers to act as walls in the large tent. He followed the walls, glancing into each room to see if it was Master’s. Soon, he reached the center of the tent and found a grand chamber set up with high barriers and a closed door.

Master must be inside...

Brumm grabbed the handle with one hand, bringing his other up to knock. “Master?”

“Enter,” came the immediate reply.

Brumm slowly pushed open the door. The whole room was covered in red fabric, including the floors. At the top of the makeshift room, he could see several of the tent’s support beams. He expected to find Master hanging from the beams like he usually did, but instead, he laid strewn out on a crimson bed at the back of the room, propped up on an arm.

_Had he been waiting for him? How long had he been waiting?_

“Master,” he asked, stopping at the center of the room.

Master beckoned him closer with a finger. “Come. I have something to show you.”

Brumm slowly approached the side of the bed, staring at Master to try and get a hint of what would be shown. He’d noticed that Master seemed to lack his usual energy. _Could he be sick? Could he even get sick?_ Brumm felt increasingly worried as he kneeled beside the bed, meeting Master’s tired eyes.

“The Ritual begins,” he moved his cape to the side, revealing his swollen abdomen. 

Brumm took a moment to stare, jaw slack with awe. A grimmchild was developing inside Master! It made him happy and sad. He liked this Master. He didn’t want this Master to be gone, yet... with a new grimmchild the ritual would continue.

Even this made him sad... but why?

Master draped his cape back over his midsection, finished with the presentation. “Share the good news to the others. I want them to begin collecting flames.” 

“Yes Master,” he pushed off his knees, taking Master’s words as a cue to leave.

“Brumm?”

He stopped. “Yes Master?” 

“I want you to find a suitable catalyst for the child.”

He paused, caught off guard. The search for a catalyst was a task Master assigned to himself. To have this honor bestowed upon him was a privilege.

“Do you think yourself able to find one in time for the arrival?” 

“Y-Yes Master,” he could hardly contain his excitement. He’d be the one choosing a catalyst for Master to accept! It made him feel so happy, but bitter as well... _why did he feel bitter?_

Master smiled, a pulse of gratitude in the air. “You are an excellent second, Brumm.”

“Thank you, Master.” 

“Now, if you’d let me rest. I need time before the dance.”

“Of course, Master. Rest for both yourself and the child,” he turned to leave the quarters but didn’t make it out before he was tempted by the form of his master, sleep quickly taking him.

He stood watching Master for a long time. Master’s thin flank rose and fell with each shallow breath, quickening as his body began to twitch. He was entering their shared nightmare. Brumm continued to watch. 

Master rolled over onto his side, pulling his knees up to his chest as if protecting the grimmchild. The sight made him feel... things. Happiness first and foremost, but beneath that, he felt worry for Master. Master was distressed. Brumm wanted to wake him, yet the Ritual controlling every fiber of his being prevented him from acting. All he could do was watch as Master continued to shake. _It didn’t feel right. None of this felt right..._

Brumm snapped out of his trance, finally exiting his master’s quarters. He had news to share.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m thinking this fic is probably going to be four chapters, I don’t want it to be too long. 
> 
> _However_ , if Grimm kills me in PoH one more time, I may just write five. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Master is with grimmchild.”

The entire troupe, who had mostly been practicing various tricks, turned their empty eyes to him. No audible or visible response was given to the news. All Brumm had to go on was the deep despair that filled the tent. _Despair? Why not happiness? This was a happy occasion. A gravid Master meant the Nightmare Heart’s influence could spread to the waking world! It meant more Grimmkin! It meant power! It meant eternal life!_

_...If it did, then why could he sympathize with the others..._

Brumm shook himself. “Grimmchild needs flame,” he continued. “Finding flame is task of Grimmkin.”

The troupe nodded, accepting their task in the Ritual. However, Brumm could still feel the their misery. It made him angry, so angry that he stepped in the way of one of the Grimmkin before they could leave. 

“Grimmkin should be happy,” he snapped.

The Grimmkin only frowned. “Of course...”

Brumm narrowed his eyes. “Grimmkin should be happy,” he repeated.

“Yet I’m not,” they snapped. “That’s the one thing I still have control over...”

Brumm watched the Grimmkin storm off and he thought about their words, their lack of control. Surely that wasn’t true? They all had a lot of choice. None of them would be a part of the Ritual if they hadn’t chosen to be.

_Then why was the Grimmkin so angry..._

Brumm pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind and followed the rest of the troupe outside. He had to find a catalyst for the grimmchild, one that Master will approve of. So far, he wasn’t finding many options.

There was the elderbug, but with his age and staid personality, Brumm could only assume he wouldn’t aid in the Ritual.

Then there was a bug named Sly. He was quite small, but had a strong spirit. The only downside to him were his prices. The Grimm Troupe didn’t have the Geo to deal with him...

There was also a lanky shopkeeper, but she showed no interest in the Ritual...

That left a single beetle named Bretta. Same with the shopkeeper, she showed no interest the Ritual. She only seemed to have an interest in one she referred to as her knight. _Mhmm... Maybe this knight could be of use to them._ He’d have to keep watch for when they next showed. 

In the meantime, he headed back for the tent, making his way to Master’s room. 

“Enter.”

Brumm did, finding Master at the center of the room. He appeared to be practicing an older routine of his. Brumm watched, captivated by Master’s movements. The Troupe Leader crossed the length of the room with such grace, sweeping his arm like a blade. It was simply mesmerizing, and the speed of it all... Brumm felt himself sweating as he watched. _From the heat maybe? No, Master wasn’t using flames... Something else then..._

Master finished his dance, standing tall to give a small bow to his invisible audience, before he turned to him. “Found me a dance partner, have you?” 

His voice snapped him out of his trance which left him stumbling for words. “N-No luck in finding catalyst.”

“Oh...” Master looked disappointed but shrugged it off. “Ah, well. Time remains for one to be found, though I do suggest you continue searching. The child will be arriving soon.”

“Soon,” Brumm asked, angling his eyes down to stare at the center of Master’s cape, trying to see through the dark fabric.

As he looked, he could see contentedness on Master’s face. Master was happy, although Brumm could sense a certain restraint. He looked up from Master’s abdomen to analyzing his face. Master looked like he was unsure about something... _What was Master unsure about?_

“Have you told the troupe?”

“Yes, Master. I did what you asked,” he answered with a smile, attempting to cheer him up to no avail.

Master just trailed off with a frown. “Hmm...”

Now Brumm was frowning. _Why was Master upset? Had he done something wrong? He’d told the troupe..._ “Master?”

Master met his eyes. “Since the announcement I’ve noticed a lack of enthusiasm in the troupe...”

_Oh. That._ Brumm had noticed the lack of enthusiasm too...

“Initially I figured it had to do with this vacant kingdom, but I fear it may be something else,” Master paused. “Could you enlighten me?”

_Could he? There wasn’t just a lack of enthusiasm in the troupe. There was despair._ To Brumm it seemed as though the Grimmkin were directly against the grimmchild. He didn’t know why they would be against it. _That went against the Ritual._ He should really tell Master... 

“Brumm?” 

He snapped his eyes up to Master’s. “Mhmm...” _What could he say? He didn’t know what the troupe thought. Maybe he could share what he thought?_ “I... I think most Grimmkin are uncomfortable with the results of the Ritual. Grimmkin don’t want to see you burn.”

“Oh, is that it?” Master seemed relieved. He released a sigh. “Brumm, dear, could you inform the troupe that they shouldn’t fear my death? We all need to be ready for its inevitability.”

_I’m not ready_ , Brumm wanted to respond but held his tongue. 

Taking his silence for an answer, Master moved across the floor of his room to continue where he’d left off in the dance. Brumm wondered if he should leave. Master hadn’t told him to leave, so he watched, wishing he could join in. The dance was meant for two. Two opponents. Two lovers. Both chasing each other and attempting to outlast the other... It was beautiful to watch. He could only assume it would be beautiful to be a part of, but Brumm wasn’t a dancer. He wasn’t quick enough to keep up with someone as quick as Master.

_Maybe, if given the time, he could be quick enough... Maybe... But Master would soon burn. Would soon be gone..._

The very thought made Brumm begin to shake and he had to tense up to keep his voice even. “Isn’t there another way?”

“Hmm?” Master stopped.

Brumm met Master’s gaze. “What If Grimm Troupe don’t collect flames?”

Master’s bright eyes narrowed. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“So flames don’t burn you...”

For a moment there was only silence. Brumm feared he’d said the wrong thing until Master smiled. “Brumm, my dear, do you hear yourself?”

He hesitated, unsure of what to say, but Master continued. “We need the flames for the Ritual. The Ritual is everything.”

Brumm continued to shake. He could see that his fear was distressing Master but he just couldn’t stop. For the first time, he didn’t want to complete this Ritual. He wanted to find a way out of it.

Master’s voice quieted. “I’ve always wanted brood of my own, Brumm. Even only one,” he paused. “The Nightmare’s Heart has given me that. Think of what it has given you and value that over what the Ritual demands.”

Brumm couldn’t answer. 

_The Nightmare’s Heart gave me you,_ he wanted to say. _Now I’m going to lose the only reason I’m here... and I can’t let that happen..._


	3. Chapter 3

“Eeuuarrggh...”

A low moan from somewhere in the primary tent had Brumm scrambling to kick his sheets off. The thin fabric wrapped tightly around his legs and he fell to the floor. Brumm quickly pulled himself free and jumped to his feet, listening for the moan. _Was Master in trouble?! No, no. That moan wasn’t Master, it was something else._

As silently as Brumm could manage, he rushed to his door and pushed it open. Then he followed the barriers up to Master’s room. _Needed to check on him. Needed to make sure Master and grimmchild were safe..._

“Eeuuarrggh....” Further in the tent, the moans continued. 

Brumm held his breath as he ran to hear the moans behind him. It sounded like something rather large was moving. The walls were practically _shaking_ with each heavy slither.

He reached Master’s door and grabbed the handle, hesitating briefly. He really should ask for permission to open it, but with some unauthorized bug in the tent, he couldn’t risk being heard and leading the creature straight to Master. So he risked it, pushing the door open to find Master awake and staring at him, crimson eyes commanding an answer.

“Some bug... In the tent...” He whispered through clenched fangs.

Master’s eyes narrowed as he got up from his bed and passed him, stepping out into the hallway.

“Have caution...” Brumm turned, some instinct having him reach for Master before he quickly pulled his hands back to his sides. _Foolish. Master could very well handle himself._

Hands still at his sides, Brumm followed after his master. He was having trouble controlling his fear, although, he noticed he wasn’t the only one. As they made their way down the hall, Grimmkin peeked between the barriers to see what was happening. Most were extremely frightened, if he was reading the energy right. They only dared to leave the safety of their rooms in the presence of Master.

“Eeuuarrggh...”

Master reached the end of the hall and opened the door leading onto the stage. Brumm was right behind him and stretched to see over his shoulder. A pulsating mass like an overweight fluke without the killer teeth, pulsed wildly in the corner. He felt the need to defend his master swell inside of him until he heard the gravid bug laugh. He snapped his head to the side, watching Master approach the beast with a calm, unworried demeanor.

“Divine, old friend, what ever are you looking for?”

_Divine?!_ Brumm turned his head back to the bulging mass. This time, instead of a raging beast, he found the large, swollen abdomen of a particular termite queen.

“Aaaaaaahhh, Master Grimm,” Divine lifted her upper body out from behind her grossly large abdomen. “Forgive my heedlessness! I never intended to disturb your slumber.”

“It isn’t just mine you disturbed, dear,” Master commented, turning his gaze to the Grimmkin who’d slowly began to venture out of their bunks. “What has you _this_ worked up?” 

In response, the termite let out a long cry-like moan. “There’s a smell, oh, a smell!“

Master frowned. “Of what kind? I can’t detect anything out of the ordinary.”

“Oh, Master, you wouldn’t understand it! The smell, it teases me and only me! Oooh!” Divine nearly toppled over before catching herself on a barrier. “Such a handsome smell...”

That had Brumm share a confused look with Master. The smell was... _handsome?_ Was she smelling someone? If so, who? A potential catalyst for the grimmchild, perhaps? 

Brumm focused back on the squirming termite queen. “Eeuurgh! I need—! Ergh!”

“Divine, dear friend,” Master stepped up to Divine’s side to take her claws in his own. “Let’s get you back to your tent. I think you need more time to adjust to this kingdom. Later we can discuss this smell and see if we can collect it for you.”

That seemed to calm her down, at least slightly. “Of course, Master Grimm. Oh, I didn’t mean to cause such a ruckus!”

“Don’t worry, dear,” Master led her out of the primary tent, his claws still interlocked with hers. “That was hardly a disturbance.”

— —

Later, Brumm stood outside the main tent. Droplets of water fell around him, adding a dull hum to his music. He continued to play, ignoring the cool liquid dripping down his shell to his fingers, slicking up the keys.

_It must be raining above the kingdom... Must be dripping through the soil..._

In the adjacent tent, Divine was still moaning. 

Brumm paid little attention. The termite queen had been moaning for hours now with no sign of stopping. In order to make the lewd noises more bearable, he picked out a piece he could play over it. Still, it was obvious to him and the rest of the Grimmkin that Divine was... releasing pent-up frustration...

Something—or should he say some _one_ —was bothering her. Ever since they’d materialized in this kingdom, she hadn’t been acting herself. She was a mess now, obsessed with distant pheromones. Brumm had even grown so used to her new behavior that when she stopped moaning he felt a chill rattle his exoskeleton.

He immediately stopped his music and listened into Divine’s tent. He could hear her breathing heavily, whispering something. Brumm approached the side of the tent and listened.

“The smell! The smell!”

Brumm leaned away from the tent, even more confused. Divine’s voice had changed from an endless wail of desperation to trembling anticipation. Was the source of the smell coming closer? He started to look around at the bugs around Dirtmouth. He found himself focusing on the beetle, Bretta. She usually always waited on the bench but now she looked to be anticipating something. Brumm followed her eyes to find the broken well at the other side of Dirtmouth. There was a slight sound... Scrabbling? Something was climbing out...

Brumm continued to watch the well until two tiny horns poked above the stone, followed by a face with hollow eyes and a body as black as void. 

“Aaaaaahhh!” Divine shot out of her tent, nearly running into him. “Eeuurgh?!” She caught sight of the tiny shape and flared up in anger.

_Was this not the smell she was seeking? She’d seemed so excited before..._

“Oh, why do you tease me so?!” Divine cried out to no one in particular. “Oh, why are you so close, I want you! I want you!”

Brumm could hardly hear Divine. His eyes were on the tiny nail-wielding creature who’d just locked its empty eyes on their tents. 

This was the one who’d lit the Nightmare Lantern, Brumm just knew it. This was the one they needed for the Ritual. 

This was the catalyst.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait on this chapter, I rewrote most of it because I didn’t like the flow. 
> 
> I like it now!
> 
> Enjoy!

With a final enraged moan, Divine turned to pull her weight back into her own tent. Brumm didn’t look to see if she needed help. His eyes were on the tiny knight, watching it cross through Dirtmouth to enter a shop.

_He needed to tell Master now..._

Brumm kept his gaze on the shop’s entrance for a moment longer before he wrenched it away. _The catalyst won’t go anywhere. You can bring the catalyst to Master once he approves,_ he spoke to himself as he began down the hall. He was so focused on what he wanted to tell Master that he nearly ran into a wall of Grimmkin blocking the way to the stage.

Brumm tried several times to push past them, but the Grimmkin held strong. Their souls pulsed in unison, saying “don’t,” and “no further.” He wondered what this meant until he felt another pulse from within him. Immediately, he knew what the Nightmare’s influence was trying to tell him:

_The grimmchild has arrived..._

Brumm’s broad shoulders tensed as he tried to control his excitement. _The grimmchild arrived! Where is it? He wants to see it!_  
Brumm’s excitement won over and he started to push his way through the crowd again. Most were smart enough to move out of the way. An unfortunate few, however, were trampled on his way to where Master had given birth: backstage. 

_Master was most likely practicing when he’d gone into labor. Practicing for the Ritual... The Ritual that would leave him dead..._

Brumm moved the curtains to the side so that he could poke his head through. Backstage, he saw Master sitting cross-legged on a stack of sand bags, staring at a tiny form in his lap. Brumm squinted his eyes. There were two Grimmkin standing with Master, blocking most of his sight from the grimmchild. He stretched, trying to see above their robed heads.

Master must have been able to sense him because he looked up and smiled. “Brumm, I pray you’ve finished casting for the performance?”

“Y-Yes...” Brumm approached, struggling to get out the words as his eyes locked on the child in Master’s thin arms. 

The child’s thin shell was a pale gray, devoid of the deep crimson that made up his father’s. His eyes were dark, nearly black. _Soon, as the Ritual progressed, the child’s form would be saturated with flame... and Master would die..._ The thought made Brumm want to tremble, but he knew he must be happy. This was how the Ritual was supposed to end. Master was prepared. Shouldn’t he be prepared?

Master hummed in interest. “I’d like to speak to who you’ve chosen. That way, I can personally decide if they fit their role.”

— —

At Master’s orders, Brumm had taken his position just inside the primary tent. Here, his music would echo throughout. He hoped this would lure the little knight inside. 

To his fortune, it didn’t take long for him to interest the knight. Not long after he started, he heard a huge gulp from Divine followed by loud arguing. He flicked his eyes over to watch the entrance just as the little knight entered. They appeared to be slightly annoyed. Brumm could feel it emanating off of them as if they were in-tune with the dream world, _although not the nightmare side..._

They walked right up to him, fearlessly standing to watch him play his accordion. Brumm returned the dead stare, watching the knight in turn. _What a strange creature. No matter, a Ritual needed to be completed._

“Speak to Master,” he directed.

The knight continued to stare at him so he repeated his order. This time, the knight switched its attention over to the stage beyond them, stepping towards it. 

Brumm remained where he was even as he heard the spotlights flick on and the puff of smoke Master appeared in. He wanted to watch the entrance in case of other guests from Dirtmouth, but when he heard Master speak, he couldn’t help himself.

Brumm crept closer to the stage. Master was standing near the back of the stage, and although Brumm couldn’t make out his words, he knew that he was instructing the knight to collect flames. Brumm focused on the knight as Master spoke. They still looked fearless. Brumm couldn’t understand how they managed that. Master was nice and even Brumm found him terrifying sometimes... 

Master finished with his instructions and snapped his claws. A moment later, the grimmchild appeared above the knight’s shoulder. Brumm watched it slowly sink through the air and into the little knight’s arms. Then Master disappeared, leaving the child with knight. 

Brumm continued to watch the knight turn to leave with the child. He watched them pass him in the hall. The sight made him... angry... but it also made him content. This was as the Ritual should be — _No, no, it just made him angry. Why was he angry?_

Brumm walked to the stage, finding Master exchanging words with several of the Grimmkin. Master looked happy. He wanted to be as happy as Master...

“The Vessel will do. I see promise in them,” Brumm looked up to see Master approaching him. He straightened, making Master laugh at his seriousness. “You’ve done a fine job in casting, Brumm. In fact, I’m considering you to cast _all_ our performances.”

“Mrmm...” he murmured, unsure of what to say. He was still bothered by the grimmchild being given to the little knight.

Master could sense this in him. “Follow me,” he ordered and Brumm followed him into the back rooms. 

They entered Master’s room and Brumm turned around to close the door for them. When he went to turn back around, Master was staring at him. “Brumm, what’s—“

Before Master could get his words out, Brumm was already blabbering, “Does M-Master miss g-grimmchild?”

Master gave him a confused look. “Do I... Brumm, what do you mean?”

Brumm hesitated. “I-I’m sorry, Master, I just feel much more attached to this grimmchild...”

Master nodded. “That is only natural. The grimmchild _will_ grow to lead this troupe after I burn.”

_No, it wasn’t that... He felt more of an attachment. The grimmchild felt like it was his. He wanted to care for him with Master and he just couldn’t get it out of his head._

Even when Master had invited him into his bed for the night, he couldn’t stop thinking about the grimmchild. It made him sad. He thought that Master would be sad too, but that hadn’t been the case while he’d been awake. Now though, Master was trembling in his sleep. Again. 

Brumm shifted closer to his master and carefully put an arm around his waist. When he did, he could feel his body stop trembling. It was as if the sensation of another next to him was enough to reach through their shared nightmare. As if Master found comfort in him...

That made Brumm think back to the Grimmkin when he’d felt their despair, their lack of control. He wondered if Master felt this way... Maybe that’s why he shook in his sleep. _Master never shook when he was awake... It was as if his soul and body were detached. That or something had a hold of his soul..._

Brumm laid his head down on the pillow next to Master’s, falling into the nightmare.

— —

Days later, the little knight — or the “Vessel” as Master called it — returned. In their arms was the grimmchild. Already, he looked so grown... _It made Brumm feel... He didn’t know how it made him feel._ Now the grimmchild looked just like Master and would grow to take his place. The Ritual would continue, _but why did Master have to die for it?_

On stage, Master danced with the Vessel, instructing them on how to join in. They mostly dodged to learn the moves and exchanged hits when they could. Brumm watched them fight for what seemed like hours, then Master was defeated. 

He froze in shock, like he always did when Master performed a disappearing trick, then breathed a sigh of relief once he reappeared. This relief was short lived as he watched Master send the Vessel away with the child again. His heart broke. He wanted to follow, maybe he could? Maybe It would make him stop feeling this way if he somehow stopped the Ritual.

Brumm attempted to follow the little knight only for a stab of pain to pierce his chest. _Don’t follow. Don’t disturb,_ his mind screamed at him though he knew it wasn’t his own. That was the Nightmare’s influence. It was controlling him. if he wanted to follow the Vessel he’d need to fight it. 

_Not an easy task..._

Brumm walked stiffly. The air felt heavier as he willingly planned to disobey the Nightmare’s Heart. _There was no way he’d make it like this..._ Brumm looked around the hall, desperately searching for something to relieve the pressure in his chest. He spotted the torches resting against the wall and reached to grab one.

_Yes, yes, he would collect flames... He wasn’t disturbing the Ritual, he was aiding in its completion!_

He began forward again. The pain was still in his chest, but more bearable. _It would have to do... The pain would be much worse if he were to attempt to stop the Ritual... Or maybe get the knight’s help?_

He’d need to find the Vessel in the furthest part of the kingdom to avoid detection.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time the pressure in his chest began to fade, Brumm had carried the torch through thick thorns, clouds of spore, and a vicious tribe of mantises. He’d thought he’d been clear of the worst of his obstacles when he’d climbed back up near the Queen’s Station, but one misstep sent him plummeting into darkness.

He hadn’t broken anything important like the torch. If he had, the knight would never find him down here, _and after recovering from his fall, he knew for a fact he wanted to be found..._ Beasts with dangerous claws, razor-sharp teeth, and carapaces as hard as pale ore surrounded him on all sides. 

He’d tried to run from these beasts, but they knew these tunnels better than him. They took chase and Brumm was left to scramble in the dark with only the light of his torch to guide him until he found his way to a distant village. He was betting on it being empty. Luckily it was.

Brumm was currently resting in a hut on the outskirts. Outside the silk-woven walls, he could hear the old platforms creak. _Someone was coming._ Brumm remained still. The footfalls were light enough, but he couldn’t be sure. _Not in Deepnest he couldn’t..._ So he’d lifted his torch, brandishing it at the entrance as if it were a weapon, though he immediately lowered it at the sight of the Vessel and grimmchild.

In one arm, the Vessel held the grimmchild against themselves. In the other, they held their nail, prepared to fight, although Brumm could see their hesitation. They were not expecting to find him here. They approached in question.

Brumm didn’t explain himself to the little knight yet. His couldn’t tear his eyes away from the child. He had the same fearlessness as the Vessel, Brumm could see it in his eyes and the way they seemed to challenge him. _Threaten_ him, though he knew not to be afraid. The grimmchild only wanted to protect the Vessel who’d raised it. 

The loyalty warmed his heart more than any flames could, but it also made him think about what it meant to stop the Ritual. In a perfect world, he and Master would be free, everyone would be free. They could continue where they left off before they were pulled into all this... but would they _all_ be free? 

Brumm was less and less sure as he looked at the grimmchild. The child was born of the Ritual, surely they’d die with it? What did that mean of the rest of them? The Ritual changed them all, surely there was nothing left of who they once were?

“The scarlet flame. You’ve come to claim it for Master,” Brumm glanced at the torch he held in his hand, the symbol of the troupe’s slavery. 

_The knight wouldn’t understand... or maybe they would... the knight carried themself about as if they didn’t have a master. Had they escaped some fate? Brumm didn’t know, but he’d have to appeal to them for help._

— —

Brumm had said everything he could. Now he just had to hope he’d swayed the Vessel to his side... 

Mrmm... he didn’t like thinking of it as _his_ side. That implied he was against Master. He wasn’t. He was loyal to Master, loved Master...

Brumm continued to climb, fighting the wind for purchase on the cliffs. It was getting harder and harder. As he neared the Nightmare Lantern, the dull ache in his chest amplified to a crushing weight. The Nightmare’s influence didn’t want him anywhere near the Lantern, not when it knew what he planned to do... He just had to hope the little knight and the child would reach him soon...

By the time Brumm could see the glow of the Lantern, he was on his knees. He crawled into the chamber and leaned against a wall. He didn’t remember blacking out. The next thing he knew, there was something nuzzling him as it mewed. 

Brumm looked up to see the grimmchild. He reached for the child but they hissed and glided back to the Vessel. _They actually came._ Brumm struggled to get to his knees and approach the Lantern.

“Let us destroy the Ritual’s anchor,” he struggled to get the words out as he stabbed his torch into the Lantern. The Vessel began to swipe at it with his nail, each attack tearing at his heart. “N-No longer shall the Nightmare’s influence spread through this land!”

“Brumm?!” 

He looked past the Lantern to see a silhouette of Master at the entrance of the cave. He stiffened, unmoving at the sight of Master. Master who didn’t seem to be himself... His voice sounded different... _This close to the Lantern, the Nightmare was controlling him..._

“Step away from the Lantern. After everything we’ve accomplished I’d think that _you_ wouldn’t throw it all away!”

_I’m sorry..._

Brumm focused back on the knight. It had stopped striking the Lantern. It was now staring back at Master, watching him as he cleared the distance. 

_If he wanted to stop the Ritual, he’d have to stop it himself..._ Brumm angled the end of his torch and pierced it through the Lantern.

— —

He gasped, pushing himself up from the dusty stone. A sense of dread filled his entire shell as he looked around the walls around him, not recognizing anything. _Where was he? How’d he get here?_

He stood and continued to look around the cave. There was a single pile of dark fabric in the opposite corner of him.

He hesitantly began towards the fabric. There was something underneath it. He could see the material rising and falling... _Breathing, perhaps..._

He grabbed the edge and risked pulling it. To his surprise, the fabric began to slide towards him. He grew braver and removed it entirely in one clean yank. What was beneath caught his eyes. There was a bug curled up on their side. They were slim, so very slim that he worried for their health...

The bug began to shiver at the removal of the fabric blanket covering them. His eyes flicked over to their back, finding two rattling wings. They weren’t... normal. They looked deformed. Too small, too misshapen, and the grey scales growing on the inside were coming in too thick.

He looked back to the bug’s face, finding... fear? They looked afraid. Or maybe sad? He couldn’t tell. All he knew was this bug was either in a nightmare or reliving a horrible memory.

“H-Hello?” He placed a hand on the bug’s shoulder.

Before he could shake their shoulder to wake them up, the bug’s dark eyes shot open. They immediately turned to hiss, swiping a clawed hand at him. He flinched and the slim bug used it as an opportunity to skitter into the corner on six limbs.

He looked down at his arm and the blood seeping from his wounds. _Mrmm... Those were going to need bandages..._ He focused back on the bug.

“Who are you,” they demanded from the corner, voice deep and masculine.

“I’m... Mrmm...” He paused. _What was his name? He couldn’t remember..._ “I think...” He kept trying, kept searching his mind for anything. “I think my name is... Nymm.” _Yes. That sounded correct._

“Nymm,” the moth repeated, still standing rigidly, preparing to defend himself.

He nodded. “What is yours?”

The moth didn’t answer immediately but he could see that they were starting to relax. “I don’t know. I can’t remember anything. I think my name is... Gris? I’m not sure...”

Nymm gave Gris a small smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I can’t remember anything either. I woke up here with you.”

Gris looked away, flicking his deformed wings.

Nymm frowned, working his brain to think of something to ask his new friend before an ear-spitting screech caught his attention.

“Eeeuuuurrrghhh!” 

They both stared at a pile of boulders that were shaking. _Was something under there?_

Gris moved faster than him. The slim moth was already at the pile of boulders and struggling to free the trapped bug by the time Nymm was at his side to help. They dug through, pulling out a tiny termite who looked a little shaken. 

“Are you hurt,” Nymm asked, looking over her.

The termite shook her head, bringing her claws to rub her stomach. _It looked as if she’d eaten someone twice her size..._ “Oh, I’m so full—why am I so full? I don’t remember eating anything. In fact, I don’t remember _anything!_ ”

“We don’t remember anything either,” Nymm smiled at her then glanced up at Gris who’d walked over to the entrance of the cave. He was staring out into the distance, a lost expression on his face. _Nymm could feel for the moth._

“Oh, it’s so cold!” The tiny termite was shivering against him. “For the love of all things pale, does _anyone_ have a place we can go?”

“We’ll have to find one,” Nymm answered, his eyes still on Gris. “Gris?”

The moth turned around, pausing before he spoke. “I doubt we’ll find anything close...”

Nymm had the same feeling. Everything around them felt dead, but deep down there was something there. He could feel it. It felt familiar, like he’d been down this path before. _Had he?_

“Anywhere would be fine with me! Heavens!” The termite was still shivering and holding her belly.

Gris frowned. “We don’t have much of a choice with that. Our memories are gone...”

Nymm approached them. “Our feelings are not. I can feel that there’s a place for us here. I can feel it.”

“Let’s go then!” The termite leaped into the air to wrap her claws around his shoulders, ridding on his back. 

He smiled before turning his gaze to Gris. In response, the moth finally smiled. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone, be honest... When you made your way out of Deepnest near the Moss Prophet, you immediately fell back in...
> 
> Okay, in all seriousness, thank you to everyone who’s left comments and kudos. This is my first fic of the fandom and I hope to write a lot more! 
> 
> Thank you all!)


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